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fredericksI've been distracted lately by things that take away from the now. Important things, yes, but things that hinder more than help. No way to get around this.
And now on to my regularly scheduled programme.
What's happened lately in my life? First, I got rejected from Binghamton's Nursing Program. It took them all of 5 days to decide that, meaning I didn't even make it past the first round of deliberations. Yep, that bodes really well for my Pace chances. I didn't even get on the waiting list. If I don't get into any schools I'm going to have to start serious job-searching for positions to last me a year (plus??) in the next couple of weeks.
That was the downer of the week. The ego killer, if you will. I was perked up by two call-backs, though. The way it worked out, these two calls came through in the morning, waking me up. Pretty sweet wake-up calls, I'd say. One was for a volunteer position at St. Vincent's Hospital, for their ElderShare program. The gist of it, as far as I can tell, is that you hang with the older patients, feeding them, keeping them company, and generally attempting to bring them a little bit of cheer. I figure since I sort of enjoyed the time I spent watching my great-grandmother I might be able to handle that. Talked to the coordinator, and now I have to fill out the paperwork, sit for an interview, pass a background check, and hope they consider me worthy.
The second was for a paid internship with the head of the Community Health program at my school. I called and left the woman a message before vacation. My inquiry was on a lark more than anything: I have no research assistant/work experience and I highly doubted the position would be open for someone like me. Well wonder of wonders! everyone else prolly thought that as well, because when the woman called me back she told me no one had tried for the position. When I told her that I had no experience she said it was okay, that was what internships were for (well, tell that to all the other eejits who require experience before they take you on, lady). I go in for an interview with her research assistant about the position on Monday. It doesn't pay much and they hand you a check at one time (I'd assume at the end of the project), but if she doesn't get another intern I get paid double for the same amount of work (my fingers are crossed real hard, believe you me).
Okay, so yesterday? Totally funked up. All because I got two hours of sleep the night before. And I can't even say I was up studying and went to bed at 4:30 knowing I had to wake up by 6:30. I came in at the normal 11PM then dicked around until 4:30! I did do some reading, but not nearly enough. When my alarm went off I woke up and KNEW I was all discombobulated. I sat up straight way too fast, thinking I might have been late, and did what I like to call "The Crackhead Scratch". You know, when you're aware that your brain is about three steps behind and you sit there idly scratching various body parts trying to give it time to catch up? Yup. Did that for a couple of minutes then forced myself out of bed and into the bathroom to get ready.
Went to Brookdale and nearly fell asleep a number of times. If anything, the sleepiness was a godsend - it dampened the usual homicidal-like rage I enter in when surrounded by my lab mates. The weirdness started in the middle of lab, though. For some reason I thought I had - and I'm not kidding with this at all - something like breast cancer. Remember, my brains were totally scrambled. I felt a sort of sticking pain in my right one and after determining it wasn't due to dryness (because I went to the bathroom and lathered that jammy up with my ever-present mini-bottle of lotion and the pain persisted) I managed to find this weirdish looking red spot on it. In hindsight, it wasn't weird looking at all, it was just a place that the rubbing of my bra had caused, but...yeah, no brains.
I tried to forget about it and left lab...leaving my notebook behind. I didn't realize this until it was almost time for Microbiology. This was a major hassle because the next time lab would be held was at 7, and seeing as I worked from 7 to 9:40, I wouldn't be able to head down there until 10. Brookdale Campus is down on 23rd Street, a 15 minute walk away from the nearest subway station. The trip alone would take 45 minutes back and forth. I was pissed. At myself.
Did the class thing, and during the gap in my schedule (the gap not long enough for me to head down to Brookdale, dammit!) I went to play on the uber-cute G5's in the Student Center and check on my poor breastisis. It was then I noticed that my underwire was broken and realized that its broken piece was jabbing me (thus the jabbing pain!) and causing my tired brain to jump to idiotic conclusions. Of course I was too tired to figure that I could have just pulled it out and gone on with my day (I ended up doing that today, while picking up another bra to replace its comrade lost in the line of duty); I tried to ineffectively push it back in and be done with it. It worked quite a number on me. I never thought I'd have to stick a bandage on my breast but never say never, I guess.
7 PM notetaking class came and went, then came the 8:25 one. One of the people I take notes in there for came to me and told me I have to "take better notes", and if I was lucid I probably would have gotten angrier than I did. A statement like that in any of the other classes I notetake in I would have understood - I hate those assignments. I enjoy this class, but the professor rarely speaks on the topic. When he does, I write stuff down. Terms he highlights, things he says related to the papers, I write down. But most of the classes are spent talking about our experiences with racism, and he doesn't test on that. It's not my fault I didn't take better notes...what the hell was I to take notes ON?? I told the student as much and resigned myself to drop that assignment as soon as I was assured to have the internship with the ComHe people. Maybe the 7PM assignment as well. I'll be interning from 9AM to 3PM, there's no need for me to be stuck in Hunter until 9:40PM.
When I was leaving Hunter I realized I lost my ID card. This is important because you need an ID card to get into Brookdale. Again, me pissed. I went to all the places in the school I thought I might have left it, then went back to the ATM on 86th where I deposited my paycheck. No ID there either. By this time it was 10PM and I had to get to Brookdale before the lab closed at 10:50. I was pooped, angry, and on a deadline. Get to Brookdale without ID card, and luckily the guard let me go up without a fuss (after I'd spent the entire walk trying to figure out the right way to plead my case). Pick up the book, went to the grocery (made seafood alfredo today for dinner), and came home at (wait for it) 12:20! AM, even! It's not just that I came home at 12:20 that gets me (I'm 24 years old; 12:20 is the top of the evenin', dammit), but that I came home at 12:20 after waking up at 6 effin' 30. And if I hadn't been so addle-brained I would have been home at least an hour and a half earlier.
So, yes. My entry is finished.
Except for this - NBC's version of The Office? Surprisingly good. Carrell's no Gervais, but he did manage to get a twinge of sympathy out of me in one scene. Besides, episode two had me laughing out loud.
And now on to my regularly scheduled programme.
What's happened lately in my life? First, I got rejected from Binghamton's Nursing Program. It took them all of 5 days to decide that, meaning I didn't even make it past the first round of deliberations. Yep, that bodes really well for my Pace chances. I didn't even get on the waiting list. If I don't get into any schools I'm going to have to start serious job-searching for positions to last me a year (plus??) in the next couple of weeks.
That was the downer of the week. The ego killer, if you will. I was perked up by two call-backs, though. The way it worked out, these two calls came through in the morning, waking me up. Pretty sweet wake-up calls, I'd say. One was for a volunteer position at St. Vincent's Hospital, for their ElderShare program. The gist of it, as far as I can tell, is that you hang with the older patients, feeding them, keeping them company, and generally attempting to bring them a little bit of cheer. I figure since I sort of enjoyed the time I spent watching my great-grandmother I might be able to handle that. Talked to the coordinator, and now I have to fill out the paperwork, sit for an interview, pass a background check, and hope they consider me worthy.
The second was for a paid internship with the head of the Community Health program at my school. I called and left the woman a message before vacation. My inquiry was on a lark more than anything: I have no research assistant/work experience and I highly doubted the position would be open for someone like me. Well wonder of wonders! everyone else prolly thought that as well, because when the woman called me back she told me no one had tried for the position. When I told her that I had no experience she said it was okay, that was what internships were for (well, tell that to all the other eejits who require experience before they take you on, lady). I go in for an interview with her research assistant about the position on Monday. It doesn't pay much and they hand you a check at one time (I'd assume at the end of the project), but if she doesn't get another intern I get paid double for the same amount of work (my fingers are crossed real hard, believe you me).
Okay, so yesterday? Totally funked up. All because I got two hours of sleep the night before. And I can't even say I was up studying and went to bed at 4:30 knowing I had to wake up by 6:30. I came in at the normal 11PM then dicked around until 4:30! I did do some reading, but not nearly enough. When my alarm went off I woke up and KNEW I was all discombobulated. I sat up straight way too fast, thinking I might have been late, and did what I like to call "The Crackhead Scratch". You know, when you're aware that your brain is about three steps behind and you sit there idly scratching various body parts trying to give it time to catch up? Yup. Did that for a couple of minutes then forced myself out of bed and into the bathroom to get ready.
Went to Brookdale and nearly fell asleep a number of times. If anything, the sleepiness was a godsend - it dampened the usual homicidal-like rage I enter in when surrounded by my lab mates. The weirdness started in the middle of lab, though. For some reason I thought I had - and I'm not kidding with this at all - something like breast cancer. Remember, my brains were totally scrambled. I felt a sort of sticking pain in my right one and after determining it wasn't due to dryness (because I went to the bathroom and lathered that jammy up with my ever-present mini-bottle of lotion and the pain persisted) I managed to find this weirdish looking red spot on it. In hindsight, it wasn't weird looking at all, it was just a place that the rubbing of my bra had caused, but...yeah, no brains.
I tried to forget about it and left lab...leaving my notebook behind. I didn't realize this until it was almost time for Microbiology. This was a major hassle because the next time lab would be held was at 7, and seeing as I worked from 7 to 9:40, I wouldn't be able to head down there until 10. Brookdale Campus is down on 23rd Street, a 15 minute walk away from the nearest subway station. The trip alone would take 45 minutes back and forth. I was pissed. At myself.
Did the class thing, and during the gap in my schedule (the gap not long enough for me to head down to Brookdale, dammit!) I went to play on the uber-cute G5's in the Student Center and check on my poor breastisis. It was then I noticed that my underwire was broken and realized that its broken piece was jabbing me (thus the jabbing pain!) and causing my tired brain to jump to idiotic conclusions. Of course I was too tired to figure that I could have just pulled it out and gone on with my day (I ended up doing that today, while picking up another bra to replace its comrade lost in the line of duty); I tried to ineffectively push it back in and be done with it. It worked quite a number on me. I never thought I'd have to stick a bandage on my breast but never say never, I guess.
7 PM notetaking class came and went, then came the 8:25 one. One of the people I take notes in there for came to me and told me I have to "take better notes", and if I was lucid I probably would have gotten angrier than I did. A statement like that in any of the other classes I notetake in I would have understood - I hate those assignments. I enjoy this class, but the professor rarely speaks on the topic. When he does, I write stuff down. Terms he highlights, things he says related to the papers, I write down. But most of the classes are spent talking about our experiences with racism, and he doesn't test on that. It's not my fault I didn't take better notes...what the hell was I to take notes ON?? I told the student as much and resigned myself to drop that assignment as soon as I was assured to have the internship with the ComHe people. Maybe the 7PM assignment as well. I'll be interning from 9AM to 3PM, there's no need for me to be stuck in Hunter until 9:40PM.
When I was leaving Hunter I realized I lost my ID card. This is important because you need an ID card to get into Brookdale. Again, me pissed. I went to all the places in the school I thought I might have left it, then went back to the ATM on 86th where I deposited my paycheck. No ID there either. By this time it was 10PM and I had to get to Brookdale before the lab closed at 10:50. I was pooped, angry, and on a deadline. Get to Brookdale without ID card, and luckily the guard let me go up without a fuss (after I'd spent the entire walk trying to figure out the right way to plead my case). Pick up the book, went to the grocery (made seafood alfredo today for dinner), and came home at (wait for it) 12:20! AM, even! It's not just that I came home at 12:20 that gets me (I'm 24 years old; 12:20 is the top of the evenin', dammit), but that I came home at 12:20 after waking up at 6 effin' 30. And if I hadn't been so addle-brained I would have been home at least an hour and a half earlier.
So, yes. My entry is finished.
Except for this - NBC's version of The Office? Surprisingly good. Carrell's no Gervais, but he did manage to get a twinge of sympathy out of me in one scene. Besides, episode two had me laughing out loud.
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no subject
Date: 2005-04-02 07:24 am (UTC)I hate when underwires pop out and poke...grr...been there many times
no subject
Date: 2005-04-03 05:02 am (UTC)And thanks for the hugs, my friend. *hugs* Right back at you. Here's to hoping you feel better. Physically and mentally.
And, uhm, not to be a pushy lass, but where the heck are your promised car pictures, huh? I'm on the end of my cyber-seat here.
no subject
Date: 2005-04-03 06:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-02 11:59 pm (UTC)The underwire thing really does suck. All my bras are shitty because they're SOOOO old and they don't fit right and I refuse to buy any new clothes until I lose like 30 pounds, which, yeah, ain't happenin', and that's ALSO why I still wear maternity underwear.
So what would you be doing on the Community Health internship? Research stuff duh, but do you know what specifically? Good luck with that.
Oh yeah, one more question. Who the hell is Neil Gaiman and why does everyone in the entire friggity fraggety universe worship him?
no subject
Date: 2005-04-03 05:19 am (UTC)So what would you be doing on the Community Health internship?
Community Health is my major at this school. The major declaration was only a formality, since I don't intend to attend Hunter beyond this semester. This internship is basically made for idiots. All I have to do is agree to trudge up to the Bronx (not sure if you know NYC geography, but out of the 5 boroughs that make up NYC the Bronx is the farthest north) 2 - 5 days a week to a HS for 6 hrs a day and run a computer-based questionnaire on Teen Dating Violence, giving it to any number of students that the guidance office sends over. That's it. The experiment leader said I'd be privy to all the data they tabulated when everything was said and done, but I'm not going to be directly involved in the paper writing or data analysis. All I have to do, I guess, is proctor the questions and make sure the laptop doesn't walk away. From April until June. I think it's doable. And it'll look good on my resume, so yeah.
Who the hell is Neil Gaiman and why does everyone in the entire friggity fraggety universe worship him?
Why people would worship Mr. Gaiman I don't know (maybe because he can wash up well?), but I can tell you who he is. *grin* Dude wrote the Sandman series, an interesting comic series about his realization of Morpheus, the God of Dream (who, in the pages of the comic, looks remarkably like... Neil Gaiman; coincidence? I think NOT!), his 6 siblings, and his ventures into human life. His site is real purty, btw. (http://www.neilgaiman.com/) It probably will tell you more about his works than I can.
There's a love/hate thing for Gaiman. Many people like his comics (he's also written a few books; I think I gushed about American Gods here a while back) because of his "gothic-like" storytelling. It's very layered and a little sophisticated. Others would say the guy writes real pretentious-like and his characters, especially Morpheus, act like goth rejects who have sticks up their collective asses. I've read Sandman from beginning to end and I've also read a good parody of Sandman (in the pages of Dave Sim's Cerebus, an interesting if sometimes ponderous and overly preachy graphic novel) and I agree with both assessments. Sandman did do wonders for the comic world, though. That can't be denied.
So...yeah. That's Gaiman. I know that didn't help at all, but...I tried?